But she must not laugh. McClintock's astonishment merged into a state of mild hypnosis. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. "Do you know anything further of Sir Rowland?" he asked. While he was considering what would be best to do, the poor maniac, over whose bewildered brain another change had come, raised her head from under the straw, and peeping round the room, asked in a low voice, "If they were gone?" "Who?" inquired Jack.
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